Monday, February 10, 2025 - Student Union Cafeteria

The cafeteria buzzed with Monday energy—students lingering over late breakfasts, early lunches, cups of coffee as they prepare for the week ahead. Dr. Brenner spots his colleagues at their usual table near the windows, February sunlight making the snow-covered
Quad outside gleam blindingly bright. Professor Williams raises her hand in greeting; Professor Kingle sits beside her, already sketching something on a napkin. Dr. Brenner sets his tray down and slides into the empty chair.

Professor Kingle doesn't wait. "Another eventful week. Foreign policy, tariffs, protests, court rulings. Let's walk through it."

The week moved fast. Monday's court blocked the foreign aid freeze—the president lacked authority to withhold congressionally appropriated funds—and that same day, DOJ and Education opened antisemitism probes into five universities. Tuesday brought EO 14199: withdrawal from the UN Human Rights Council, defunding of UNRWA (the Palestinian refugee agency), and a directive to review UNESCO membership.

Wednesday exploded. EO 14200 jumped China tariffs from 10% to 20%; EO 14201 directed Education to exclude transgender women from female athletics under Title IX interpretation. Coordinated protests erupted nationwide—the "50501" movement, all 50 states, all the same day. Thursday brought a federal judge's temporary pause on the "Fork in the Road" deadline, extending from February 6 to February 10, then EO 14203: sanctions on International Criminal Court officials.

Friday layered more. EO 14204 sanctioned South Africa for the ICJ genocide case against Israel. OMB and NIH imposed a 15% indirect cost rate cap on federal research grants—down from negotiated rates of 50-70%. LA high schools conducted walkouts, students congregating at City Hall. Sunday, February 9, over 1,000 marched through downtown San Diego, vigil at St. Joseph Cathedral led by Cardinal McElroy.

Professor Kingle traces a line on his napkin. "Let's start with the court ruling on the funding freeze. On the blackletter, it's straightforward. Congress appropriates money–they pass a law saying 'spend this amount on these programs.' That's their constitutional power under Article I."

He taps the napkin. "The administration tried to freeze those funds while 'reviewing' them. But there's a statute–the Impoundment Control Act from 1974. After Nixon tried to kill programs by refusing to spend their budgets, Congress said: you can't do that. If you want to not spend appropriated money, you have to ask us first and follow procedures."

"So Monday's court ruling applied the statute. No, you can't freeze this money. Congress appropriated it, you have to spend it. Separation of powers–the power of the purse belongs to Congress, not the executive."

Professor Williams leans forward. "But think about what happened to the programs in the meantime. Between the freeze and the court ruling, weeks passed. Staff were laid off. Projects were canceled. Partner organizations lost funding."

She stirs her soup. "When the court finally said 'this was illegal,' the damage was already done. That's the psychological effect. Even when the law works, it works slowly. People making decisions in real time can't wait for a court ruling. They have to act on what's happening now. Fear and uncertainty do their work immediately; legal remedies come later, if at all."

Dr. Brenner sets down his coffee. "Hungary, 2010-2015. Orbán didn't ignore court rulings openly. He just moved fast enough that by the time courts ruled, the new normal was established. He'd pack a court, change a law, restructure an agency–all before legal challenges could work their way through. The mechanism isn't defying courts. It's outrunning them."

Professor Kingle nods and moves to his next point. "The withdrawal from the UN Human Rights Council on Tuesday. Legally, the president has broad authority over foreign relations. Joining or leaving international organizations is typically an executive decision, unless a treaty requires Senate approval."

He sketches two boxes labeled "US" and "UN." "Here's the practical question: what does it mean to withdraw from bodies that monitor human rights? The Human Rights Council investigates violations, issues reports, coordinates responses. If you're outside that system, there's less international oversight of your own practices, and less leverage over other countries' practices."

"Each individual action might be within executive authority," he adds, "but here's where we shift from 'lawful' to 'concerning.' First the WHO, now the Human Rights Council, reviewing UNESCO membership, defunding UNRWA–what emerges is systematic withdrawal from multilateral institutions."

Professor Williams wraps her hands around her bowl. "For people who work in these systems–diplomats, aid workers, human rights monitors–this creates existential anxiety. Your job, your mission, your organization's funding could disappear with one executive order. How do you plan? How do you commit to long-term projects? You can't."

"And for vulnerable populations who depend on those systems–Palestinian refugees losing UNRWA funding, for example–the psychological message is: you're on your own. The institutions that provided stability are being dismantled. That creates mass trauma and displacement on top of existing crises."

Dr. Brenner thinks of Elena, the exhausted look in her eyes when she talks about her clients.

"Germany withdrew from the League of Nations in October 1933, nine months after Hitler became chancellor," he says. "The stated reason was unfair treatment, a rigged system. The real reason was removing external constraints on rearmament and expansion. Once you're outside the international system, there's no one to say 'no' except your own courts and legislature."

Professor Kingle pulls out a fresh napkin.

"The tariffs," he says. "Wednesday's increase from 10% to 20% on China. Presidents have tariff authority under certain statutes–national security provisions, unfair trade practices. The legal question is whether the findings required by those statutes were actually made."

He adds rising bars to his diagram. "But economically, tariffs are taxes on imports. American companies pay them when they bring goods in, and they usually pass the cost to consumers. So a 20% tariff means your electronics, your clothes, your household goods cost more. People feel it in their wallets immediately, even if they don't connect it to trade policy."

"And that creates political pressure," Professor Kingle adds. "When prices rise, voters look for someone to blame. Leadership can frame it as 'necessary pain to bring jobs back' or 'China is hurting you.' The economic anxiety becomes politically useful."

Professor Williams nods. "Anxiety about money triggers survival responses. When people feel financially insecure, they become more susceptible to authoritarian messaging. They want someone strong who promises to fix it. They're less willing to tolerate ambiguity or complexity. The brain under economic stress makes quick, binary decisions: friend or enemy, safe or dangerous."

Dr. Brenner watches the light on the snow. "Weimar Germany. The hyperinflation of 1923, then the deflation and unemployment after 1929. People's savings became worthless. Jobs disappeared. The middle class was destroyed. That's when the Nazi vote surged–not because of ideology primarily, but because of desperation. Hitler promised simple answers to complex economic pain."

"The transgender sports order on Wednesday," Professor Kingle continues. "EO 14201 directs the Education Department to interpret Title IX–the law that prohibits sex discrimination in education–to exclude transgender women from female athletics."

He taps his napkin and adds a T-chart. "The legal fight will be about statutory interpretation. What did Congress mean by 'sex' in 1972 when they passed Title IX? And about agency authority–can the Education Department impose this interpretation through enforcement, or does that exceed their statutory mandate?"

"Courts will look at the text, the history, and Supreme Court precedent," he adds. "Some will focus on biological definitions. Others will apply evolving interpretations of sex and gender. It's going to split along circuit lines, likely heading to the Supreme Court eventually."

Professor Williams sets down her spoon. "But while that legal process plays out over months or years, transgender student athletes face immediate decisions. Do I try out for the team? Do I transfer schools? Do I quit sports entirely? The psychological harm is immediate–being told by your government that you don't belong, that your identity is a threat."

"And for all students," she adds, "it teaches a lesson about whose rights matter. When the state can exclude a group based on who they are, that sends a signal about how power works. Some students learn they're protected. Others learn they're vulnerable. Those lessons shape political identity for life."

Dr. Brenner thinks of his classroom, the students watching him for signals. "The Nuremberg Laws, 1935. They didn't start with camps. They started with definitions and exclusions. Who counts as Jewish. Who can marry whom. Who can participate in public life. The laws created a category of people who were legally different, legally lesser. Once that architecture exists, it can be expanded."

The cafeteria noise presses in–laughter, conversations, the clatter of trays. Dr. Brenner makes himself continue.

"Wednesday's protests." Professor Kingle sets his fork down. "The '50501' movement–50 states, one day. Coordinated actions at state capitols. First Amendment activity–assembly, speech, petition. Legally protected."

"Politically significant, though. Mass mobilization shows that opposition exists and is organized. Puts pressure on elected officials. Makes people who feel isolated feel less alone. Whether it changes policy outcomes is harder to measure, but it changes the political environment."

Professor Williams nods. "Protests are collective emotional regulation. When people feel powerless individually, they come together to create shared power. The act of marching, chanting, holding a sign–that makes you feel less helpless. It activates agency."

She pauses.

"But there's a risk. If protests don't lead to tangible change, people can feel even more hopeless. You showed up, you marched, nothing shifted. That can lead to either escalation–more confrontational tactics–or resignation. The system teaches you whether your voice matters."

Dr. Brenner watches students at nearby tables, bent over phones, living their Mondays. "Poland, 2016-2018. Massive protests against the PiS government's court packing and media control. Hundreds of thousands in the streets. The government framed protesters as elites, as foreign-influenced troublemakers. They passed the laws anyway. It took years and a change in government to reverse some of the damage. The protests mattered, but not immediately."

Professor Kingle pulls out a fresh napkin. "Thursday's court pause on the 'Fork in the Road' deadline. A judge using equitable powers to preserve the status quo while litigation proceeds. Legal theory: irreparable harm would occur if federal workers are forced to decide by an artificial deadline."

He taps the napkin. "But notice–the deadline was extended four days, from February 6 to today, February 10. Not a permanent injunction. Temporary pause. The underlying program continues; it's just slowed slightly."

"So workers still face the same decision," Professor Williams says. "Resign with pay, or stay and risk being fired anyway under Schedule F. Four extra days don't change the fundamental pressure. Your brain is still running threat calculations. Do I trust this job? Can I afford to lose it? Should I take the offer while it's available?"

"Learned helplessness again," she continues. "When you can't control outcomes, when every choice feels dangerous, you shut down or you comply. The four-day extension might feel like a reprieve, but it's also a reminder that the system can change the rules at any moment."

Dr. Brenner thinks of Marcus, the careful way he takes notes, storing everything for his thesis. "Brazil under Bolsonaro. He didn't fire all the civil servants at once. He offered early retirement packages, restructured agencies, intimidated workers through investigations and audits. Good people left. The ones who stayed were either true believers or too scared to speak up. The bureaucracy changed its DNA without a single dramatic purge."

Professor Kingle pulls out a fresh napkin.

"The ICC sanctions. EO 14203 imposes sanctions on International Criminal Court officials. The ICC investigates war crimes, crimes against humanity, genocide. The U.S. never ratified the Rome Statute that created the ICC, so we're not a member. But sanctioning the court itself is unusual."

He draws a scale on his napkin. "The legal authority comes from existing sanctions statutes–the president can designate people or entities that threaten U.S. national security interests. Whether ICC officials fit that category is debatable, but within the president's claimed authority."

"The message: international accountability mechanisms are threats, not partners. If you investigate American conduct or allied conduct, you face consequences. Signal to international institutions generally."

Professor Williams tilts her head. "And for victims of atrocities who rely on the ICC as a last resort–when their own countries won't prosecute war crimes–this says: you're on your own. The most powerful country in the world won't support international justice. That's despair-inducing for human rights advocates worldwide."

Dr. Brenner looks at his untouched sandwich. "The Philippines under Duterte, 2016-2022. He withdrew from the ICC after they opened an investigation into his drug war killings. Then continued the killings without international scrutiny. Remove external accountability, then act without restraint. Institutions matter because they create costs for bad behavior. Remove the institutions, remove the costs."

Professor Kingle's voice tightens slightly. "The research funding cap. Friday's 15% indirect cost rate. OMB and NIH saying: we're standardizing what we'll reimburse universities for overhead on federal grants. Down from 50-70% to 15%."

He draws a pie chart on his napkin. "Indirect costs pay for lab space, utilities, compliance officers, grant administrators. Universities negotiate these rates with the government based on actual costs. A unilateral cap below actual costs means universities lose money on every federal grant."

He shrugs. "Can they do this? Agencies have authority to set grant terms. But existing negotiated agreements are arguably contractual. And universities will argue the cap is arbitrary–not based on actual costs or statutory authority. A court blocked it today, so we'll see how it plays out."

Professor Williams leans forward. "But think about graduate students and postdocs. Labs can't afford as many positions at 15%. Professors cancel projects. Students lose funding mid-program. These are people who've invested years in training, who have no backup plan."

"Some will leave science," she says quietly. "Go to industry, go overseas, give up entirely. And the scientific ecosystem loses diversity, loses the risky innovative projects that only happen in academia. The damage isn't just financial–it's intellectual and human."

Dr. Brenner thinks of his graduate school friends, the ones who stayed in research, who built labs on soft money and hope. "Turkey after the 2016 coup attempt. Erdoğan didn't just fire academics; he shut research centers, froze grants, investigated universities for 'terrorist ties.' Thousands of scholars left the country. The brain drain hollowed out Turkish universities for years. You can rebuild buildings, but you can't rebuild lost intellectual communities quickly."

His phone buzzes. He glances down.

Breaking: Federal Court Blocks 15% Research Indirect Cost Cap
Judge rules OMB lacked authority to unilaterally void negotiated agreements.

Breaking: Federal Court Blocks 15% Research Indirect Cost Cap

Judge rules OMB lacked authority to unilaterally void negotiated agreements.

"Today's ruling," Dr. Brenner says, showing them. "The cap is blocked."

"For now," Professor Kingle adds. "But the attempt matters. It shows universities they're targets. Grant funding isn't stable. That's the chilling effect we keep seeing–even when courts push back, the message is sent."

Professor Williams looks toward the windows where sunlight glares off the Quad. "Sunday's march in San Diego. A thousand people led by a cardinal, ending in a cathedral. That's different from the state capitol protests. That's religious institutions taking a public stance."

"Which is significant politically," Professor Kingle says. "When religious leaders frame opposition as a moral duty, they're mobilizing a different kind of authority. Not partisan politics, but prophetic witness. That complicates the government's ability to dismiss protesters as partisans."

Professor Williams nods. "And for participants, religious framing transforms fear into courage. You're not just resisting policy–you're defending the vulnerable, living your faith. That's psychologically empowering and sustaining in a way that purely political action sometimes isn't."

Dr. Brenner thinks of his grandmother, who never spoke about how she survived. "The Confessing Church in Nazi Germany. Pastors like Dietrich Bonhoeffer and Martin Niemöller who resisted when most churches accommodated. They paid with their freedom and sometimes their lives. But their witness mattered–both then and as historical memory now."

The three of them sit in the too-bright cafeteria, surrounded by ordinary Monday noise–students laughing, complaining about homework, making plans. Dr. Brenner wonders how many of them followed the news this week. How many noticed.

Professor Kingle gathers his napkins, diagrams fading into creases. "Same time next Monday," he says. Not a question.

Professor Williams touches Dr. Brenner's arm gently. "How's Elena?"

"Eight weeks along. Due September 24." He pauses. "We're managing."

"That's what you do. You manage. Until you can do more than manage."

After they leave, Dr. Brenner sits alone for a moment. His sandwich mostly uneaten, his coffee cold. Outside, the snow keeps its impossible brightness. Inside, students keep their ordinary Mondays.

He thinks about Wednesday's lecture on the Reichstag Fire.

The way emergency becomes normal. The way exceptional becomes routine. The way 52 days can reshape a democracy.

What world will my child inherit?

It depends on whether people recognize the mechanisms while there's still time to name them. Whether scholars warn when they see the patterns. Whether courts hold when pressured. Whether protests sustain when change is slow.

He stands, gathers his tray, and heads back to prepare for Wednesday.

Reichstag Fire. Emergency powers. The 52 days that ended Weimar democracy.

Mechanisms, not labels. But mechanisms that anyone with eyes can see.